Hearing the steward’s words, Eleanor was clearly taken aback.
Several seconds passed before she refocused. Those azure eyes, which had gone slightly unfocused from shock, trembled.
She repeated the words instinctively, her voice still hoarse:
“Someone once… a guard?”
“A young man with black hair?”
The combination felt utterly foreign.
But the next second, a flash of lightning seemed to strike through the girl’s mind, and the figure of that black-haired youth abruptly surfaced.
The youth who, back in Olivius City, always followed behind Helos with a helpless expression as he cleaned up her messes.
The only person immune to Helos’s curse, the saint knight squire in whom she and her father had placed so much hope.
Could it be…
Julius?!
The moment this thought emerged, Eleanor’s heart began to pound uncontrollably.
Wasn’t he supposed to be far away in the Theocracy of Al?
Three years ago, he had passed the Paladin examination, been personally selected by His Holiness the Pope, and sent to the Theocracy for the most rigorous training.
After that, he vanished without a trace.
Why would he suddenly appear in the Imperial Capital at a time like this?
And specifically seek her out?
Eleanor had no idea what Julius had been doing for the past nine years.
She hadn’t even received a single piece of news about him.
She had tried to investigate using her status as Saintess, but the only results were phrases like “top secret” and “no comment.”
But his sudden visit at this moment…
Eleanor couldn’t help but think of the horrifying scene she had just seen in the crystal ball.
Could it be that he—was after that child?
Was he also here to…
A glimmer of hope rose in Eleanor’s heart, but it was quickly replaced by deeper confusion.
No, how did he know we had come to the Imperial Capital?
How did he know that something had happened to Helos?
Or… maybe he was just passing through?
Or did he have other business?
In an extremely short time, Eleanor considered countless possibilities.
Her already chaotic thoughts became even more tangled.
The old steward watched his young lady fall into a daze again, then thought of the black-haired youth outside the door—plainly dressed, with a bearing that was strangely intimidating.
Assuming the visitor was no good, he tentatively asked:
“Miss? Do you know him?”
“If this man is a fraud… shall I have someone drive him away?”
“No! Don’t!”
Eleanor snapped back to reality.
She stood up abruptly from the sofa, shaking her head repeatedly.
She took a deep breath, forcing her tumultuous emotions to settle.
“Did—did he mention his name?”
She asked the steward urgently.
The old steward shook his head.
“Miss, he did not state his name.”
“However, he accurately described some internal details of the duke’s mansion in Olivius City.”
A flash of disappointment passed through Eleanor’s eyes.
The steward added:
“Though he gave no name, he was thoroughly familiar with internal affairs of the family, especially regarding the second young lady.”
“He even mentioned her specifically.”
The steward’s tone grew more serious.
“This man’s origins are unclear, yet he knows such detailed internal family matters. For that reason, I came cautiously to report to you.”
After hearing the steward’s words, the last shred of doubt in Eleanor’s mind dissolved.
That’s not surprising.
He mentioned Helos.
Now she was one hundred percent certain that the person outside was Julius.
In this world, besides her own family, not many people could say Helos’s name.
Moreover, according to the steward, the details and appearance he described could only match that guy.
Eleanor’s heart, which had been icy with fear and helplessness, suddenly filled with warmth.
It was as if she had grabbed a lifeline.
“Quick! Please show him in!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she said urgently to the steward:
“Don’t bring him here—take him to the front reception room!”
“Also—”
She adjusted her appearance, striving to restore the dignified composure of the Saintess young lady.
“I need to speak with him alone. Have the maids prepare tea and refreshments in the reception room, and then all of you—without my permission—are not to come anywhere near that room.”
Though full of questions, the old steward faithfully carried out the order and bowed out.
“Yes, miss.”
***
Before long, Eleanor walked quickly to the mansion’s reception room.
She sat upright on the velvet sofa, hands folded over her knees, trying to appear calm and majestic.
But the faint trembling of her fingertips and the anxious blue of her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil.
A few minutes later, the heavy wooden door of the reception room was pushed open by a maid.
“Miss, your guest has arrived.”
Then, a tall, familiar figure slowly stepped inside.
Eleanor’s breath caught.
It really was him.
He was no longer the stubborn young squire from three years ago, following Helos with a face that screamed “Someone please control this girl.”
Those nine years had stripped away all his youthful immaturity and made him look much more mature.
He had grown taller, with broader shoulders.
A set of dark, practical clothes outlined his smooth, powerful lines, like a cheetah’s.
Under his short, clean black hair was a chiseled face.
His skin was no longer the fair complexion of a youth, but rather a healthy tan from long exposure to the elements.
The only thing unchanged was those jet-black eyes.
They were still bright, but no longer carried the sharp, aggressive edge of his youth.
Now his gaze was calm, deep, like a bottomless, cold pond, impossible to read.
The two of them stood across the reception room, staring at each other for a long time.
Time seemed to stretch in that moment.
Until the steward and maids had respectfully laid out the tea and refreshments, then silently bowed and retreated, gently closing the heavy door behind them.
The soft click of the lock sealed the space off from the outside.
Click.
Julius finally broke the silence.
He did not perform a Knight’s Salute, nor a noble’s bow.
The youth simply walked naturally to the sofa opposite Eleanor and slowly sat down.
He picked up the hot tea on the table, but did not drink—only gently stroked the warm surface of the cup with his fingers.
Then he looked up.
In those pitch-black eyes, a faint, long-anticipated smile finally appeared.
He smiled, greeting the young lady before him, who had grown even more holy and noble:
“Long time no see, Miss Eleanor.”